The Fishing Trip
by Shellecah
Summary: When Matt, Chester, Doc, Kitty and saloon gal Lilah Rose take a fishing trip to convalesce following an influenza epidemic, they meet lonely wanderer Zeb Woodman, who is captivated by Kitty, while Lilah is besotted with Chester.
1. Chapter 1

An outbreak of grippe fell on Dodge City with the cold hard rains of late spring. Smiting Matt, Chester, Doc and Kitty, the illness died out when the first summer days dawned cloudless, warm and sunny.

Doc prescribed a week recuperating and fishing at a place he discovered some twenty miles from town while driving his buggy home from a sick call. A creek flowed from the Arkansas to a deep-water pond surrounded by sycamore and redbud trees, bulrushes, blue sage and sunflowers, and a large, flat-topped rock mound sprawled on the embankment.

"What say we all take the trip together," said Doc, as he sat in the Long Branch with Matt and Kitty.

"Sounds like fun, Doc," said Kitty lethargically, with a shade of a smile. "I _am_ desperate to get away." She was droopy as she convalesced, her blue eyes dimmed from their usual pert brightness. She picked up her mug and looked into it, sloshing the beer to froth. "I'll invite Lilah Rose," she said.

"Lilah Rose," said Matt. "The gal who works here?"

"Only Lilah Rose I know of in this town," said Kitty.

"Kitty," said Doc, "I have nothing against Lilah, but why take her with us."

"For Chester," said Kitty.

Matt gave her a baffled grin. He'd lost a lot of weight while bedridden, and his face looked chalky. Kitty wondered why he stretched his mouth in that humorless grimace. She thought of a skull, and was at once shocked at herself, as she never had unkind thoughts about Matt.

"Kitty, Chester hasn't shown any interest in Lilah," said Matt. "And he's mourning Nancy, besides."

The town schoolmarm, Chester's fiancee Nancy Sparrow had died of the grippe when they were all sick. At thirty-seven, she was some years older than Chester, and despite her benevolence, sweet face and pleasant features, considering his fondness for young beautiful women, they marveled that he'd fallen in love with her.

"Lilah's taken a shine to Chester a long time," said Kitty. "He'll notice her now Nancy's dead. Lilah's just what he needs to forget his grief. I sound mighty cold, I know. I liked Nancy; she was a fine woman. But I never thought she was the woman for Chester." Kitty looked expectantly from Doc to Matt, her eyes pleading for reassurance and understanding.

"You're not yourself, Kitty," Matt soothed, as though that brief assertion settled everything.

"None of us are ourselves," said Doc. "Question is, who are we?" Matt and Kitty looked at Doc, who winked and drank from his beer. Doc was habitually poker-faced and his jesting could be enigmatic. They couldn't at times tell when he was joking.

"What I mean is," said Kitty, "Accomplished ladies like Nancy expect a lot from a husband. She'd have wanted Chester to provide for her, of course, find a job befitting her social standing, and wear a suit and tie every day. He'd never have kept up with Nancy's charity work and sociables, and he would've tried to do all that to make her happy. Lilah expects nothing from her beaus; she likes them for themselves."

Matt and Doc solemnly nodded, esteeming Kitty's womanly wisdom. If she thought Chester needed a girl like Lilah now, then Kitty knew best.

"I trust your opinion, Kitty," said Doc. "We'll take Lilah along if she wants to come."

"Oh she will," said Kitty. "She's that sweet on Chester."

"Doc . . . " said Matt, "I'm thinkin' on a fishin' trip with just Kitty and me, and you can take Chester and Lilah to your pond off the Ar_kan_sas. Kitty and I'll find another spot." Kitty smiled at Matt.

Doc frowned. "Well, that's confounded selfish, Matt. It was my idea to go fishing to begin with, and you're tryin' to muck it."

"Doc, how can Kitty and myself enjoying some time alone affect you any," said Matt.

"Like I said. Selfish. You spare no thought for me at all. I was sick as the rest of you," said Doc, raising his voice and talking faster, "and not only that, I had to tend the townsfolk while you were layin' abed, by thunder. This is no time to hog Kitty all to yourself, Matt. Chester and I need her, too!"

"Oh, Doc." Kitty rose from her chair and hovered over Doc, putting her hands on his shoulders. "Don't worry," she said. "I'll go fishing with you."

Doc lay his hand over hers.

"Is Doc alright, Miss Kitty?" Sam called from the bar. He sounded older than he had before the grippe struck him, his voice weaker.

"Yeah," said Kitty. "He's a little distressed. Bring him a whiskey, will you, Sam? You want one, Matt?"

"No thanks. Doc, I just don't know what you're so troubled about," said Matt. "You and Chester will have Lilah with you, you want a woman on your trip."

"_Matt . . . ." _said Kitty.

"Lilah's a child," said Doc.

"She's twenty-five," said Matt. "Not that much younger than Kitty."

Sam appeared at their table and set a glass of whiskey in front of Doc. "Thank you, Sam," Doc said. "Matt, I don't just want _a_ woman. I need Kitty. And so does Chester."

"Kitty said Chester needed Lilah," Matt argued.

"Matt, I promised to make the trip with Doc," said Kitty, her hands cupped around Doc's shoulders. "I want you along, but I'm goin' with Doc whether you come or not."

"It's a big fishing hole, Matt," said Doc. "Plenty of trees and quiet places where no one can see you, when you and Kitty want some time alone."

"I guess I'll have to take what I can get, Doc," said Matt. "I don't want Kitty leaving town without me, so I'm coming."

"Chester at the office?" said Doc.

"He's in bed with his coffee and romances," said Matt.

"_Romances," _said Doc and Kitty in unison.

"What happened to his frontier stories?" said Doc.

"He put 'em away in a sack under his bed," said Matt. "After Miss Nancy died, Chester asked me for the loan of a dollar to go to Jonas's store, and he came back to the office with a pile of ten-cent love stories."

"He _did_," said Doc. "Well I'll be goshswoggled." He looked amused.

"Now Doc," said Kitty, "don't you go joshin' Chester. He's not up to that."

"No. No, I agree with you, Kitty," said Doc. "Ya know, them little stories, Chester's helping himself heal with them. He has his own way of doing things, and it works out fine for 'im."

The thought of Lilah joining them on the fishing trip disquieted Chester. With puckered brows he regarded Matt from his pillow; his soulful round eyes, shadowed in the aftermath of grippe, burned with some inscrutable emotion. A dime novel titled _Melancholy Mina, _with a picture on the cover of a weeping woman in a nightdress crumpled on a crimson rug, lay opened on his chest.

The marshal shifted his boots uneasily, wondering if the romances caused Chester's fervent expression. Matt knew he'd only confuse his friend if he asked Chester what he felt to make his eyes look that way. Sometimes Matt just did not understand Chester at all.

"Why does Miss Kitty want Lilah to come 'long," said Chester. "She aint even our friend."

Matt seated himself on the end of the bed. "Lilah's very fond of you, Chester, and Kitty believes she can help you get over mourning Miss Nancy. You like Lilah, don't you? You think she's pretty?"

"Well my goodness, of course I do," Chester said thoughtfully. "She's the most beautiful in Dodge 'cept fer Miss Kitty. And I s'pose I like Lilah 'nough, maybe. I never thought on it much 'fore now, seein' as I was in love with Miss Nancy."

Chester sat up, closed his book and put it on the floor beside his coffee cup. "Mr. Dillon," he said.

"Hmm?"

"You know, don't you?" Chester said in a hushed tone. " 'Bout Lilah?" Normally brown in summer, his face was drawn and pale from the illness, and now red color flooded his cheeks. "She's a woman of the night," Chester whispered. Matt let out an impulsive burst of laughter and clapped Chester's shoulder.

Chester smiled tightly, embarrassed. "Reckon Miss Kitty figgered me to like havin' Lilah 'long fishin' cuz ah'm always sweet on the pretty gals. 'Twas so even whilst I was courtin' Miss Nancy, 'fore I asked for her hand. On account of her bein' a lady, and well, the gals was there. At the Long Branch. Lilah likes me so she don't say I haveta give her money. She knows I got none. Miss Kitty might be right at that, Mr. Dillon. 'Bout inviting Lilah ta come fishin' with us."

Matt's face, gaunt and pale as Chester's, likewise flushed, but with repressed mirth rather than embarrassment. His mouth slightly open, the marshal looked a moment at Chester, then a chortle escaped Matt and he slapped his knees. Chester stared at him like he was addled, as Mr. Dillon didn't laugh much, not so hearty, particular.

Surprised at himself, Matt figured his weakened state loosened the taut reins he kept on his feelings. In truth, like Doc said, they weren't themselves.

_**M D**_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

None of the fishing party expected to see the embankment inhabited when they arrived early in the morning at the pond three days later. Doc and Lilah rode in his buggy, and Chester drove a wagon with Matt on the seat and Kitty between them.

A man sprawled in the bulrushes at the edge of the pond. He laid his pole on the ground, climbed to his feet and watched them approach.

"Morning," said Matt, climbing down from the wagon.

"Good morning," said the man, his round dark eyes staring at Kitty. Of middling stature and compact build, he was a few years older than Matt, with small eyes, a sharp prominent nose and long thin mouth. His face was rugged and angular, with an open yet rather serious expression. Although he wasn't handsome, when Kitty and Lilah discussed him, the women found the arrangement of his form and features attractive when viewed together as the whole man.

Matt lifted Kitty down from the wagon while Doc helped Lilah out of the buggy and Chester hopped nimbly from the wagon to the ground. The man looked at Chester with an inoffensive curiosity, then his eyes turned to Lilah Rose and lingered there. She had an ethereal beauty, and many in Dodge, Matt and Chester excepted, thought her prettier than Kitty.

The man removed his hat, uncovering thick, unruly dark hair waving over his forehead and long on his neck, gray-white at the temples. "Are these lovely ladies your wives?" he said.

"We're all friends," said Kitty.

"I see," said the man. Her answer seemed to please if not excite him. Kitty guessed he wasn't a smiling sort, but his eyes brightened and his face lit up. "I'm Zeb Woodman," he said.

"Kitty Russell. This is Marshal Dillon, and Chester Goode, Doctor Adams over by the buggy, and Lilah Rose."

"You folks have a lot of provisions," said Zeb. "Looks like you'll be fishing a few days here."

"A week," said Matt.

"Mind if I join you?" said Zeb. "I don't keep company with people much. I made a fortune prospecting at Windham Bay in Alaska, enough to live in comfort the rest of my days without earning another cent. I roam the country and spend my summers fishing."

Chester paused in unloading the wagon, holding a tin tub filled with mud and wriggling worms. "By golly," he said. "That's a dream _I _wish 'ud come true."

"You'd never survive Alaska, friend," Zeb said genially. "You're too puny. And you're . . . not equipped for it."

"Chester looks stronger when he's well," said Lilah. She was soft-spoken, with a light musical voice. "He's convalescing from the grippe," she said. "We all are."

"I heard about that sickness," said Zeb. "A lot of souls were taken in these parts. Folks say it was a regular plague, Doc."

"It was," said Doc. "Particularly virulent. It's normal for grippe to cause either sore throat and headache, or stomachache and vomiting. This sickness hit the throat and belly at the same time, which is unheard of. Not hardly a body come down with it didn't think they were dying. I'm minded to think cholera brought on the belly sickness. Struck same time as the grippe."

"I wasn't touched by it," said Zeb. "I never get sick."

"You're welcome to keep company with us, you want to, Zeb," said Matt. "We've got plenty of food to share."

"I'm obliged," said Zeb. "My provisions run out a while back and I haven't rode to town in a spell. The fish make tasty vittles, but you can get too much of a good thing."

When the wagon was unloaded and camp set up, the horses tethered to sycamore branches and twigs gathered and piled for a cooking fire, Doc said he was too tuckered to fish and would nap until lunchtime. He spread out his bedroll in the long grass under a redbud tree, and was about to take off his shoes and socks and lie down when he saw Chester standing close by, wistfully watching him.

They had all helped set up camp, Zeb Woodman lending a hand. Lilah, who enjoyed cooking and was good at it, would gut and cook the fish they caught for lunch. Matt and Kitty stood some yards away face to face, talking low-voiced to each other, and they weren't holding fishing poles. Zeb apparently had for the time being lost interest in fishing, as he sat on a rock staring at Kitty.

Doc saw Chester was tired, and knew he wouldn't let Lilah catch and clean the fish by herself so he could sleep. While Doc was drowsy and his muscles sore, he felt sure that Chester was wearier than himself.

"Open your bedroll under the sun, Chester," Doc ordered. "Lay down and sleep. Lilah and I'll do the fishin'."

"But you're tired, too, Doc," said Chester.

"Not nary a bit," said Doc. "I can doze and fish at the same time."

"Well alright. I am powerful sleepy." Chester took his bedroll to a sunny patch of grass, lay on his back with his hat off, and fell asleep at once.

As Doc sat next to Lilah and cast his line into the water, Matt took Kitty's hand, and the two of them walked away along the bank. Zeb stood and followed them at a distance.

"That Zeb fella's sneakin' behind Matt and Kitty," said Doc. "He's fallen for her already. He better not make trouble for Kitty. She can't rest and get her strength back if that man starts botherin' her."

"He seems nice enough," said Lilah. "Not good-looking, but nice to look at, somehow. Maybe Kitty will like him."

Doc enjoyed sitting beside Lilah, and was pleased now that he'd told Chester to take a nap. About as tall as Kitty, Lilah was graceful and womanly of form, neither plump or thin. She had thick, loosely curling hair, silky and so pale blonde it looked silver, and a dazzling smile. Her eyes were large and dark-green, and her fair complexion flawless.

Doc thought Lilah's face the epitome of female beauty, her features as close to perfection as any woman's he'd seen. She wore a light flowery perfume which mingled with the soapy clean scent of her skin and made Doc heady.

He knew Lilah was a scarlet woman, and was fairly sure that Chester wouldn't seriously consider courting her. Doc calculated she had bedded well over half the men in Dodge.

Doc leaned over and whispered in Lilah's ear. Her eyes widened and she giggled, then she and Doc put down their fishing poles and walked together into a stand of sycamores and overgrown flora.

Across the pond from their companions, Matt and Kitty lay entwined in each other's arms on a bed of grass surrounded by high dense vegetation blooming with blue sage. The sun was hot yet not scorching and the sage smelled earthy and sweet, heightening their lovemaking. Mesmerized, Zeb Woodman hid amid the plants and watched them. His trim body throbbed with wanting Kitty.

Chester saw no one around when he woke from his short yet deep and refreshing sleep. He walked to the edge of the pond and saw two fishing poles in the dirt, and no string of dead bass or catfish waiting for the pan. The sun had risen almost to the peak of the sky, and Chester's belly growled for lunch.

He drank from a canteen, opened one of the food baskets, unwrapped the cloths and pulled out a cold pork sandwich. About to take a bite, he heard Doc and Lilah talking, and a moment later they walked out of the sycamore wood, holding hands.

They stopped when they saw Chester, and Doc let go of Lilah's hand, his face reddening. Chester stared an instant, then smiled wide and laughed, his face blushing redder than Doc's. "What're you laughin' at, Chester," Doc demanded. Chester dropped his sandwich in the dirt and guffawed hiccupping laughter. Lilah put her arm around Doc and giggled.

"Can't a man go for a stroll with a pretty young woman without you brayin' like a donkey?" said Doc. "Here now, don't go into hysterics, Chester," Doc said, concern overcoming his embarrassment. "It's not _that _funny."

Lilah moved to Chester, lifted his head in her small soft hands, and kissed him at length, pouring into the kiss all her tender affection and desire for him. Chester took her in his arms and eagerly returned the kiss. He wanted to take her on the grass in the warm shade among the sycamores, and let Doc catch the fish for their midday meal.

Lilah pulled out of the embrace and took Chester's hand. "Chester and I are going to take a little walk through the trees, Doc," she said in her lilting voice.

"Doc won't have no one to help with the fishin'," Chester half-heartedly said.

"Go on along; enjoy yourselves. I'll catch enough fish for the six of us in no time flat," Doc boasted. "You two young folks are looking at an angling expert."

"I'll be back to help with the guttin' and cleanin'," said Chester.

"And I'll do the cooking," said Lilah.

Doc sat on the ground, warm from the sun and soft from the spring rains, cast his fishing line, lay down and closed his eyes, inhaling the fresh gritty tang of fecund dirt. A breeze fanned his face, buffering the sun's heat. Doc felt strong as he had before the grippe struck him, and sound in his mind and emotions. He was sure that Lilah would help Chester mend from the vestiges of the sickness and Nancy's death.

"Button me, honey, will you?" said Lilah. With his own shirt half-open over his union suit, Chester fumbled at the small covered buttons at the back of Lilah's light-green, sprigged cotton dress.

"They're slipp'ry dinky," said Chester, laboring. "It's hard to git a purchase on. Makes ma hands feel like a giant's."

"Take your time," said Lilah. "It'll give us a chance to talk a little before we walk back to camp."

"Ah jest hope I don't pull none of 'em off on accident," said Chester.

Lilah plucked a sunflower from the earth, her sensitive fingers with their long red-painted nails stroking the petals. "I love you, Chester," she said, and he felt his face flush hot. Her words touched him like a gentle pat on his heart, and his eyes moistened.

"More than Nancy Sparrow ever loved you," said Lilah. "She wanted a husband, and thought you good-looking and gentlemanly, and genteel in a natural sort of way. Miss Sparrow planned to use you for the life she wanted. To tell the truth, Chester, I don't think she ever _loved _you. She was_ fond _of you. But she wanted to mold you into her ideal husband, and I'd never do that. I love you for yourself, Chester, for who you are. Were I your gal, I wouldn't expect you to do anything you didn't want to do."

Chester did not understand everything Lilah said, which didn't much bother him, as he was used to that, particularly with women. He'd understood little more than some, maybe, of what Miss Nancy said to him, and at times couldn't wrap his mind around Miss Kitty's talk, either.

Chester took no offense when Lilah spoke against Miss Nancy, which was something of a wonderment, as he'd fancied himself in love with the schoolmarm and wept over her grave. Like the sun shining too brightly in his eyes when he turned his face to the summer sky, the knowing hit Chester of a sudden that he no longer loved Nancy Sparrow, if he ever had, no longer mourned her passing, no longer missed her even. It did not occur to him to feel guilty. He felt only a mildly unsettling perplexity.

Chester knew he didn't love Lilah, either, although he liked her well enough; and he briefly wondered, before the musing flitted out of his head like the butterflies fluttering through the hot air, if he'd ever _really _loved any woman, or ever would.

"You alright, honey?" said Lilah. "You're so quiet and still. You finish buttoning me?"

"Huh?" said Chester. "Oh yeah. It tuk a heap of pickin' and tuggin', but I got it done." He hummed softly to himself, searching for a note, then started singing _The Old Chisholm Trail _as he rose to his feet and held out his hands to help Lilah up.

Amused and a little impatient, Lilah smiled as he pulled her upright. "Chester," she said, "you haven't answered me."

"Answered you 'bout what," he said, smiling back at her.

"Do you want me for your girl."

"Wahl, you know, we kin be friends, Lilah Rose. We best head back ta camp. Doc likely got the fish ready for cookin'. _Come a-ti yi youpy youpy yea youpy yea, Come a-ti yi youpy youpy yea_," Chester sang.

"_Oh_ . . . that doesn't answer me," said Lilah, vigorously shaking out the skirt of her dress. "But I shan't nag you about it. I trust you'll give me an honest answer when you're ready."

Chester stopped singing and his face sobered. "That's ma answer in truth," he said gently, his kind brown eyes looking warmly down at her. "We can be friends, Lilah."

Lilah's cheeks turned pink in her fair face and her green eyes sparkled in distress. Chester thought of ivy leaves, then of strawberry pulp mixed in milk, which made him both thirsty and hungry. The troubled look faded from Lilah's eyes, which glowed softly up at him. "You look strained, darling," she said. "I'm sorry."

"Forevermore, Lilah, you didn't say nothin' to apologize about. I jest need lunch and some lemonade out them jars Miss Kitty brung along."

Chester made no move to reach for Lilah's hand as they walked through the trees toward camp, and her heart tripped with foreboding. This was no time for tears, though she wanted to cry. She blinked hard and swallowed it down. "Chester . . . ." she said. "Do you need more time to grieve for Miss Sparrow? Before you court another woman?"

"Ah thank um all done grievin', maybe," Chester said easily. "I ain't doin' no courtin' a spell."

"I see," said Lilah. "When you're ready to take up courting again, might you change your mind about me?"

Chester didn't know how to answer her, as he already had, twice. He thought of just saying "No",but feared that would hurt Lilah, and it seemed to him an impoliteness beside, for a man to say such to a woman.

Lilah sighed. "Never mind, Chester," she said, patting his arm. "Perhaps you can answer me later."

Doc had gutted and cleaned the fish when they returned to camp, and Lilah rolled up her sleeves to cook them and prepare lunch.

Matt and Kitty sat close together on the embankment, and Zeb Woodman sat at Kitty's other side. Matt wanted to tell Woodman to get up and sit somewhere else, or find another spot to set up camp. The marshal felt he had no right to tell Woodman to move, though, if Kitty voiced no objection to him. Accustomed to admirers, she paid Zeb no attention.

"I'll bring you a plate, Miss Kitty," said Zeb, jumping up when Lilah announced lunch was ready.

Matt gave him a chilly look, which Zeb interpreted as disdainful. "I consider myself a friendly man," Woodman said slowly in a low tone, his small dark eyes boring into Matt's large blue ones. "But even a longsuffering fellow such as myself won't tolerate mockery for long," said Zeb.

"What's the matter with you, Woodman," said Kitty, frowning. "Matt didn't say a word to you."

Chester hurried to them and held out his hand to help Kitty up. "Come on, Miss Kitty," he said. "Let's go over by Doc and Lilah."

Kitty looked questioningly at the marshal. "Go on, Kitty," said Matt. Kitty took Chester's hand and he helped her up, and she went with him to stand by Doc and Lilah.

Matt rose, towering over Zeb. "Nobody's askin' you to hang around, Woodman," said Matt. "You're welcome to stay, long as you act neighborly. It's a big pond, and we don't want any fightin'."

"You got a bee under your hat, Marshal," said Zeb. "Miss Kitty said you were friends. You're not married, she doesn't belong to you."

Matt held Woodman's stare and said nothing. "You're still doin' it," said Zeb.

"What," said Matt.

"You're looking at me like I'm dirt."

Matt made no reply. He figured Woodman would swing at him, giving him the excuse he wanted to punch Zeb and send him on his way.


	2. Chapter 2

As the men glared at each other, Zeb blinked rapidly and flickers appeared in his eyes, and Matt knew he was thinking it through. Matt wanted to hit Zeb and throw him out of camp, and the marshal's disappointment showed.

"Forget it, Marshal," said Zeb. "Look at me any way you want; I won't pay you no mind. You just want me to hit you so I'll look bad to Miss Kitty."

"You're your own man, Woodman," said Matt. "If you look bad, it's your doing. You pick a fight with me or anyone else here, you're leavin'."

Zeb glanced at Chester and Doc standing with Kitty and Lilah. "It's not likely I'd hit Chester or Doc," said Zeb. "That wouldn't be a fair fight, and I got no quarrel with them anyhow. I'd like to fetch Miss Kitty a plate of food, if you'll excuse me." Matt was quiet, and Zeb thought his eyes looked the color of the pond when it iced over in winter.

"Thank you, Zeb, but we pretty much like to serve our own food," said Kitty. Matt felt gratified knowing that Kitty would fix his plate and carry it to him, and that Woodman would see her do it.

"You go ahead and set down, Chester," said Lilah. "I'll bring your plate."

Chester startled, and hurried to the campfire, where Lilah had spread quilts on the grass and neatly arranged the lunch. "Don't trouble yourself 'bout me, Lilah," said Chester. "I'll git ma vittles." He knew what he wanted and how much, and how he wanted it fixed on the plate, and Lilah didn't.

As Doc had caught all the fish that morning, he napped in the sun while his companions fished after lunch. Matt saw that Kitty treated Zeb's attentions as nothing out of the ordinary, taking no more notice of him than she did of her many Long Branch admirers. She was reservedly polite and patient with Woodman, and Matt decided to let his guard down on Zeb so long as Kitty wasn't bothered by his overtures.

Observing Matt's efforts to ignore Zeb, Doc waited until nightfall, when Chester played his guitar by the campfire with Lilah beside him, Kitty on his other side and Woodman next to Kitty. Matt liked some time to himself most nights. Even when he shared Kitty's bed, he usually left the Long Branch for his room at Ma Smalley's hours before daybreak, finding in solitude a temporary yet profound peace which otherwise eluded him. Matt couldn't help wondering if he would recuperate faster and return to Dodge stronger in soul, mind and body if he'd taken a fishing trip alone, though making love to Kitty buoyed his spirits and invigorated him like no one and nothing else.

He stood on the embankment now, his boots planted apart and his hands in his pockets, gazing meditatively at the moonlit water. He heard footsteps and turned. "Doc."

"Matt." Doc joined him in looking at the water. "Kitty knew what she was talking about, persuading us to bring Lilah on this trip," said Doc. "Chester's already heartier, and his color's coming back."

"Glad to hear it," said Matt. "Chester tans a lot quicker than you and me. He'll be hide brown in a coupla days." Matt smiled.

"What's funny?" said Doc.

"You're lookin' a little heartier yourself, Doc. Chester told me about your walk through the sycamores with Lilah."

Affronted, Doc jerked his head back and frowned up at Matt. "Chester can't keep anything to himself. Matt . . . ." said Doc. "I don't want to cause trouble for that Woodman fella; he seems friendly enough. Even though he thinks you're a threat to his conquest for Kitty."

"Well, I don't know that he's harmless, Doc. I don't like how he goes after Kitty; I can tell you that. But I guess I have no right to throw him out of camp, since we invited him to fish with us, particular. So long as he behaves himself and doesn't plague Kitty," said Matt.

"That's what I wanna talk to you about," said Doc.

Matt turned his gaze from the rippling water and looked intently at Doc. "Woodman troubling Kitty any, is he," said the marshal.

"No," said Doc. "Not that I can see. It's not that. When you and Kitty took your stroll to the other side of the pond this morning, Woodman waited a minute or two watching, and then he followed you quiet, like he was trackin' game."

"Doc, you think he hid out in the bushes and looked at us?"

"Can't say for sure, but that's what come to mind," said Doc.

Matt turned toward the campfire. Chester was playing and singing _Listen to the Mockingbird_, while Zeb danced with Kitty and Lilah skipped round them. Her eyes sparkling and her cheeks pink, Kitty smiled at Zeb as they danced, and hot anger at Woodman stabbed Matt's gut.

"Looky there, _by _golly," said Doc. "I was worried about Kitty, Matt, I didn't wanna tell you _how _worried I was. She just wasn't mending like she should, 'til now. Can't remember when I seen her look so healthy and happy."

"_Doc . . . ." _Matt said tightly.

"Well, for heaven sakes, what's eatin' you," said Doc. "You look like a thundercloud. You jealous, are you?"

Zeb let go of Kitty, who was breathless, bowed and held out his hands to Lilah. She bobbed a curtsey, and they danced.

"Matt," said Doc, "you're not gonna hit Zeb now, are you? Kitty's having such a good time."

"Not unless he gives me reason to. I'm gonna take him aside out of Kitty and Lilah's hearing and ask if he was spying on Kitty and me this morning."

"Think he'll tell the truth?" said Doc.

"I don't know, Doc. But I might see it if he's lying."

Matt waited until Chester finished the song before approaching Woodman. Zeb and the women applauded Chester, who blushed, looking pleased and humble.

"We need to talk, Woodman," said the marshal. "Over there."

Zeb's smile faded, and Matt detected fear in his narrowed eyes. "You have no right to fight me for dancing with Miss Kitty," he said.

"He won't hit you," Kitty reassured, hoping Matt would tell her what he said to Zeb.

As the marshal and Zeb moved away from the fire, Chester put his guitar down and stood beside Kitty, and Doc joined them. Lilah leaned against a tree trunk a few feet away, her hands folded against her chest, gazing yearningly at Chester as though in a trance.

"What d'you reckon Mr. Dillon's gonna say to 'im," said Chester.

"I hope he doesn't try to fight Matt," said Kitty. "I don't want Zeb gettin' hit over me."

"You ain't ta blame at all if Mr. Dillon and Zeb fights, Miss Kitty," said Chester. "Why, you was jest havin' a l'il dance, enjoying yourself. You ain't never at fault fer one tiny thing, Miss Kitty. Never at all."

"Oh Chester," said Kitty.

Zeb trod warily beside the marshal as he stepped into the shadows away from the firelight. Matt stopped in a small clearing of tall grass out of earshot of his companions. "You were seen trailing Kitty and me when we took a walk this morning," Matt said to Zeb.

Zeb tensed and turned his head from Matt, who braced himself to grab the man if he tried to run. "I'm not a liar, Marshal," he said. "I'll tell you straight out. I hid in the bushes and watched you and Miss Kitty make love." Matt's face grew hot, and he was thankful that Woodman couldn't see his skin redden in the darkness.

Zeb slowly shook his head. "She's the most beauti—" His voice cut off as the marshal backhanded him, harder than Matt intended. Zeb fell on his back with the wind knocked out of him and lay blinking at the night sky. His face was calm as Matt loomed over him. Zeb was a man of turbulent feeling only in matters of love, otherwise passing his days easy as they happened, and unable to move at the moment, he peacefully awaited his fate at Matt's hands.

"You find yourself another fishing hole, Woodman," said Matt, "and don't wait until sunup to do it. You say another word to Kitty or ever go near her again, I'll bust your hide."

Zeb lay still in the grass gently waving in the summer breeze, patiently waiting for his voice to return to him. Matt wanted to walk back to camp and leave him lying there, but his conscience rooted his boots to the ground. "Get up," said Matt, softening his tone with an effort.

The marshal saw Woodman's chest rise as he sucked in the moist warm air and found his voice. "I can't yet. Take me a minute or so," he said.

Matt reached down, pulled Zeb up by his vest, and cautiously let go of him. When he stayed on his feet, Matt said, "Now pack up and get movin'."

"No," said Zeb.

Unwittingly stomping his boot, the marshal turned again to face him. _"What?" _said Matt.

Zeb quickly backed up several steps, then inclined his head to the side until his ear almost touched his shoulder, looking searchingly at Matt out of the corners of his eyes. "You heard me," said Zeb. "You're a big man and you wear a badge, Marshal. You must think you're mighty important, telling me what to do. You don't own this pond, and particularly since we're out in the middle of nowhere, it's no crime for a man to sneak and watch—"

Matt smacked him with the back of his hand, not putting much force behind it, and stepped closer to him. Zeb rapidly backed up some more. "Even if you beat me senseless, I'm gonna talk to Miss Kitty before I leave here," he said quietly, with steely determination. Only way to keep me from her is to kill me." His voice shook. "I'll tell Miss Kitty what I did," said Zeb, "and then if she wants me to leave, I will."

Matt felt frustration like a knot swelling behind his forehead and tightening his temples. Breathing hard, his shoulders hunched, he stared down at Woodman a moment, then grabbed his arm and strode toward camp, yanking Zeb along beside him. "You're jealous," said Zeb.

"Don't say anything to Kitty 'til I say you can talk to her," said Matt. "I'll explain it to her. And when you talk to her, don't mention that you watched us this morning, Woodman. Keep a decent tongue in your head or I'll rip you in two."

"You get too riled for a lawman," said Zeb.

His hand still gripping Zeb's arm, Matt pulled him to the rock pile near the water bank and sat him down. "Stay there 'til I give you the word," said Matt.

Sitting round the fire, Chester, Doc, Kitty and Lilah stopped chatting and looked at Matt and Zeb. Chester rose and went to the marshal. "Chester," said Matt. "Don't let him move from this rock."

"Yes, sir. You want I should git the shotgun, Mr. Dillon?"

"No," said Matt. "Just let me know if he gets up."

"You'll need a shotgun if I set my mind to getting up from this rock, Chester," said Zeb. "I can best you easy."

"You're not besting anyone, Woodman," said Matt, and pulled Zeb's gun from the holster.

"I wouldn't've used my gun," said Zeb. "I meant with my fists."

"You stir from that there perch and we'll see 'bout that," Chester warned Zeb. Knowing that Kitty and Lilah watched and listened made Chester feel bold and strong, despite his lingering weakness from the grippe.

Matt moved to Kitty. "We need to talk, Kitty," he said, and held out his hand to her. Kitty thought he looked worried and remorseful. His face appeared more sensitive than usual, somehow younger, and as Kitty slipped her hand in his, she wondered if the firelight made him look that way.

Matt led her away from the pond among the sycamores so they could talk alone. "What is it, Matt?" said Kitty. "What did Zeb do wrong?"

Matt held her hand in both his own. "Woodman trailed us when we took our walk this morning," said Matt. "He hid in the bushes and watched us make love. I'm sorry, Kitty."

"That's all?" said Kitty. It was hard to tell in the moonlight filtering through the trees, but Matt didn't think she was blushing. Kitty could have told him she wasn't. She felt not the slightest embarrassment, though she sensed Matt expected her to be mortified, which mildly annoyed her. Taken aback, he looked at her.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Matt," she said. "I was all over you this morning; you couldn't have resisted me if you wanted to."

"I didn't," Matt said quickly. "Want to resist you."

"I know, and I want us to make love again while we're here. I won't let Zeb ruin it for us. I'm really kinda flattered," said Kitty. "That Zeb wanted to see me."

"Kitty," said Matt. "It's no compliment. Think about it."

She pulled her hand away. "I don't have to think about it. Matt, I've been in the saloon business a long time. I can pretty much tell what sort a man is on sight. Zeb Woodman wouldn't hurt me, or Lilah. I'd bet the Long Branch on it. Zeb's friendly and easygoing, and awful lonely. Especially for the company of women."

"I told him to leave camp and find himself another place to fish," said Matt. "He refused until he talks to you. He says he'll leave if you want him to, Kitty."

"I don't mind if he stays, Matt. I only just met Zeb, but I don't want him hurt on account of me."

"Then you'll tell him he can stay?" said Matt.

"No. I'll tell him to leave because you want him to, not me."

"Kitty, I don't wanna haveta follow him around all week to keep him from spying on you and Lilah. I can't enjoy my time with you if Woodman's around, and I won't be good company. I'm asking you to tell him to leave as a favor to me."

"That's why I will, Matt. Like I said."

Plaintive harmonica music drifted through the trees, the player performing _Drink to Me Only with Thine Eyes_. "How can Chester stand guard when he's playin' the harmonica," said Matt. "I told him to watch Zeb."

"Zeb doesn't need a guard," said Kitty.

Chester sat on the rocks next to Zeb and Lilah sat at Zeb's other side, while Doc kept his seat by the fire. Chester stopped playing as Matt and Kitty approached. "Oh," said Chester. "Zeb said his spirits was low and asked fer more music. I figgered wasn't no harm in obligin'."

"Marshal," said Zeb, "Can Miss Kitty speak to me in private?"

"No," said Matt.

Zeb stood up and took off his hat. "I'm sorry, Miss Kitty," he said.

Kitty nodded. "Zeb, I think we should say goodbye," she said.

Zeb fiddled with his hat. "I may not be passing the time with you folks anymore, ma'am, but I'm not riding out yet," he said. "I'll set up camp about a stone's throw away."

"Woodman, we had an agreement," said Matt.

"You coerced me, Marshal," said Zeb. "I'm just not ready to leave this place yet. I can't explain it; don't hardly understand it myself. But there's something for me to do here. I'll know what it is when it happens."

"Alright," said Matt. "You refuse to ride out, I have no right to force you. You keep your distance from this camp, Woodman, and remember what I told ya."

Zeb loaded his saddlebags and slung his bedroll over his horse's rump, and led the horse by the reins along the bank of the pond, moving away from them.

"Was he houndin' you, Miss Kitty?" said Chester. "Wisht I'd a knowed; I wouldn't've bin neighborly to 'im. I'd a tole 'im ta leave you be."

"It's alright, Chester," said Kitty. "Zeb didn't bother me much. But it's best for him not to share our camp."

The liveliness had gone from the night, their festive mood fled. Hot and heavy with moisture, and silent save for the chirping of crickets and the occasional hoot of an owl, the darkness seemed to close in on them. They heard the distant howl of a wolf.

"Why don't we all get some sleep," said Doc. "We've had a long day."

Although the woman cried quietly so as not to disturb the other sleepers, Chester heard her as he snored on his bedroll, and he struggled to wake up. She was either Miss Kitty or Lilah Rose, or a woman he'd never met. A woman in trouble, lost on the prairie, maybe. Whoever she was, Chester had to help her. Anxiety pulsed in his chest, his nerves quivering, and he awakened.

Wearing a lime-colored gauzy nightdress, Lilah sat in the grass beside him, her knees drawn up to her chest and her arms encircling her legs. Her feet were bare, and her pale-blonde hair tumbled down her back in thick silken waves. Her dark-green eyes shimmered with tears which trickled down her beautiful fair face.

She looked so enchanting that for a moment Chester forgot to comfort her. His round brown eyes wide, he lay on his side and blinked at her, then sat up. Her pretty mouth curved up in a sad little smile, and she lay on his bedroll and curled up facing him. He carefully ran his hand over her hair, and she took his hand and tugged until he lay down beside her.

Lilah slipped her arms around Chester, under his arms, and he put his arms around her. "You're still too skinny," she whispered. "I can feel all your ribs, like there's only skin covering them."

"I bin eatin' much as I can," Chester whispered, "but jest a l'il meat growed on ma ribs as yet."

"Were I your gal," Lilah whispered, smiling through her tears, "I'd cook for you and bring your meals to the jailhouse packed up nice in a basket. Enough to share with Marshal Dillon, too."

Chester returned her smile. Lilah was warm and soft in his arms, and she smelled sweet and clean. Though she was a woman of the night and he wouldn't consider being her beau, he didn't want her to think he wanted no more loving from her. Then Chester recollected that she already knew he wanted to keep giving her loving, so he figured there was nothing else for him to say about it, and his eyelids were heavy and trying to close on him. Holding her in his arms, he slept.

When familiar voices and the sunlight on his face woke Chester the next morning, Lilah was sitting on his bedroll with Doc on his knees in the grass beside her and Matt and Kitty nearby. "You've had a bit of a relapse, Lilah," said Doc. "That's common with grippe. If you lie in the sun a few hours, best thing for you. Not too hot for it."

"I'll fix you some breakfast," said Kitty.

"Oh, no thank you, Kitty," said Lilah. "I'm not at all hungry."

"Anything hurt?" said Doc.

"No," said Lilah. "I'm just sore all over and very tired. I didn't sleep well last night. I think I'll take a little walk and find a sunny spot to wash where the water's warm. Maybe soak a spell."

Chester sniffed the air, which smelled of strong coffee, and he looked at the pot on the fire. "I'll fetch you some coffee, Lilah, you want some," he said.

"Please," said Lilah.

"I don't know that you should be walking alone, Lilah," said Matt. "Zeb Woodman's around here somewhere."

Kitty had told Lilah last night about Zeb hiding in the thicket watching Kitty with Matt, and Lilah had told Chester. The knowledge neither surprised or troubled Lilah, and she thought Marshal Dillon made a big fuss over a trifle. She liked and trusted Zeb.

"I'll walk with her, Matt," said Kitty.

"I was gonna ask Chester to go with her," said Matt. "Woodman would likely spy on two women same as one, and no telling what he might try if he sees you with no man around."

"Zeb wouldn't hurt Kitty or me, Marshal," said Lilah. "He's kind and obliging, not forceful with women at all. I face a lot of brutish men at the Long Branch, and he's nothing like that breed. Believe me, I know."

"So do I," said Kitty, "and I agree with Lilah."

"Woodman don't behave hisself proper round women," said Chester, holding two cups of steaming coffee. He handed one to Lilah and sat next to her.

"I really do want to be by myself awhile to rest and think," said Lilah. "I love company, too, but a girl can't be altogether at her ease unless she's alone, right, Kitty?"

"Of course," said Kitty. "I feel the same."

"If you're not back in camp in two hours, Lilah, Chester and I will come lookin' for you," said Matt.

"Take care you don't wander out where it's deep," said Doc. "Can you swim?"

"No," said Lilah. "I'll be careful, though. I promise."

Chester was relieved that Mr. Dillon did not ask him to walk with Lilah. He wanted to sit at the water's edge and fish, with a plate of jerky and warmed-over biscuits and a cup of coffee beside him while he read a book titled _Smoking Guns_. He'd tired of the dime romances when he finished mourning Miss Nancy Sparrow.

Though Matt had seen no sign of Woodman since the night before, the marshal sensed the man's presence in the air, and figured he watched them from cover. Thinking back on it, Matt admitted to himself that he'd seen no sinisterness in Woodman, and detected no dark atmosphere emanating from Zeb now, wherever he was hiding.

So Dillon would not see his horse or fire and notice him spying, Zeb had set up camp on the other side of the pond amid a grove of redbud trees, then at sunup he sneaked back to the marshal's camp and concealed himself in some overgrown bushes flowered with blue sage to look at and listen to the party of friends, especially the two beautiful women, Miss Kitty and Lilah Rose.

Never married, Woodman had not lain with a woman since cowboying in Wyoming before his prospecting days at Windham Bay. Fear of Matt overshadowed Zeb's fascination with Kitty, so he shifted his focus to Lilah. He heard their talk about Lilah feeling poorly, and that she could not swim. So when she wandered off on her own, Zeb followed her.


	3. Chapter 3

Carrying a towel, a sponge and a cake of scented soap, Lilah set out barefoot from camp, wearing only her pantalets, her hair flowing loosely in the hot breeze. Kitty saw nothing amiss in Lilah's attire, not that Kitty would go about that way in front of the men herself. Matt of course would be scandalized if she did, and she felt that it would be disrespectful to Doc and embarrass Chester.

Looking worried, Doc watched Lilah saunter away. "She took her spoon of tonic," Doc fretted, "but it doesn't work as well on an empty stomach. I'll have her take another spoon at lunchtime."

"Kitty, she's not dressed," said Matt. "And Woodman's skulking around out here. I'd bet money on it." Chester cast his fishing line, and Matt and Kitty heard him singing _Skip to My Lou_.

"Matt," said Kitty, "I know you don't believe me, but I assure you, Zeb is harmless. Lilah won't much mind him lookin' as long as he doesn't touch. Unless he pays her for the privilege."

"I don't consider a man _harmless _who sneaks around ogling women without their clothes on," said Matt.

Absorbed in his fishing, Chester didn't watch Lilah leave camp. He'd seen her in all states of undress, and thought it not unexpected that she'd take a stroll in her undergarment. She was after all a saloon gal.

Lilah walked alongside the pond until she saw a place at the rim where the sunlight hit the water. Tall bulrushes grew thickly here, surrounding a small circular area like a walled-in pool. The rushes and a growth of high dense flora on the bank and in the water would give her privacy.

She moved down the bank, her feet slipping in the mud, and dipped her pretty toes with their pink-painted nails in the pond. The water was still and very warm. She'd soak in her pantalets before taking them off to bathe, and give the garment a scrub too.

She stepped in the water, anticipating the pleasant feeling of sandy earth between her toes, and her heart bounded in terror as she sank below the surface, falling through dark water. She opened her mouth to scream, thrashing wildly, and water filled her nose and throat. The flailing halted her descent and propelled her upward. Her face broke through the water, her arms beat the surface and she sank again.

Zeb Woodman tore out of a big bush studded with sunflowers and leaped into the water, his hat floating as he went under. He collided with Lilah on his way down, reached for her, and kicked hard to the surface.

Zeb carried her up the bank and lowered her to the grass where she lay motionless, her eyes closed and her lips parted. Zeb had never seen a person revived from drowning, and he didn't know how to save her. He desperately wanted her to live, and to live she had to breathe.

All he could think to do was blow his own breath into her lungs. Zeb opened Lilah's mouth wider, inhaled deeply, covered her mouth and nose with his opened mouth, and exhaled all the breath in his chest into her nostrils and down her throat.

He sat back on his heels, and she started coughing with a gurgling noise, her eyes still closed. Zeb scooted in back of Lilah, sat her up and bent her over from the waist.

Her eyes opened and she spit up a lot of water, and coughed some more. When the coughing ceased, she let out a gasp and sobbed aloud like a frightened child.

Zeb crawled on his knees in front of her, took her in his arms and smoothed her hair from her face. "It's alright, dear," he said in a low soothing tone. "You're safe now. I'll take care of you."

Lilah stopped crying and gazed into his dark eyes. "I knew you were good," she said. "I told Marshal Dillon so."

Zeb smiled a little. "Well, I couldn't let you drown," he said. "We best go to your camp so Doc can take a look at you."

He helped Lilah stand, and kept his arms around her as they walked. "I want you for my lady, Lilah," said Zeb. "If you'll have me. It just come to me when I fished you out of the water and thought you might die." She giggled at that.

"I know you're sweet on Chester," said Zeb. "He's good folks and he treats you well and all, but he won't ask for your hand, honey. I can tell that without asking how things stand between you and him."

"Chester and I are friends," said Lilah. "He visits my room at the Long Branch sometimes."

"I guessed what your job is from hearing you and Miss Kitty talk," said Zeb. "Makes no never mind to me. You're a fine woman and I want to marry you."

"You mean . . .straightaway?" said Lilah. "Without courting me first?"

"No need for courtin'. I know my own mind, darlin'. I know I want you for my wife. We'll live wherever you want; see the world if that suits you. I've money sufficient for us to live like royalty through old age. You won't have to earn your bread or do any chores. I'll hire servants for cleaning and such."

"I'm a good cook," said Lilah. "I love to cook. I'd like to cook your meals, Zeb."

Zeb stopped walking, stepped back from Lilah and took her hands. "You'll marry me then?" he said a bit breathlessly.

"Can we live in San Francisco?" said Lilah.

"Sure we can." Zeb beamed at her, then pulled her back into his arms and kissed her.

_KR~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

Zeb and Lilah rode out on his horse at midday and headed for a way station a mile off, where they would board the next stage to Dodge and visit the parson to take their marriage vows.

"Lilah's a sweet girl," said Doc, "but by golly, I feel a lot easier now that Woodman left with her and it's just us four here. Maybe now we can get some real rest and recuperate."

"I think you're right 'bout that, Doc," said Chester. "I liked Lilah's company and she's pretty as a picture, but she was two handfuls underfoot." He sat by Doc on the big rockpile, catching the fish for supper.

Matt and Kitty were near them on the grassy bank. Matt lay on his back with his boots crossed and his hat over his face, while Kitty sat quietly looking at the water with a pensive expression, feeling a familiar turmoil of frustration over her relationship with Matt and impatience with herself overlaid by gloom, and envy at Lilah marrying a man who pleased her, showed her eager affections and would provide for her in luxury.

Matt kept their intimacy at arm's length and guarded his soul's secrets behind a locked barricade, so Kitty felt at least a little discontented even while he made love to her. She tossed a pebble in the water and shifted restlessly. This mood she'd mired herself in would not do. She'd made this fishing trip to recover her health and strength and high spirits, so she could face returning to the Long Branch; and most of all she'd come here to find pathways that would lead her closer to Matt's heart.

Kitty shook herself and rose, brushing grass and bits of earth from her skirt. _"Matt," _she said.

Matt raised himself on his elbows, letting his hat tumble to the ground. "Kitty?"

Kitty held out her hand to him and smiled. "Let's you and I take a stroll and talk."

END


End file.
